


Nightmares from Another Universe

by KnightNight7203



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-22
Updated: 2016-07-22
Packaged: 2018-07-26 00:21:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7552906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KnightNight7203/pseuds/KnightNight7203
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He feels things from the other universe sometimes. She knows he does." In which the human Doctor escapes from the shadow of his Time-Lord counterpart, with a little help from good old Rose.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nightmares from Another Universe

He feels things from another universe sometimes. She knows he does. It’s the expression that passes over his eyes that gives him away.

She’s not sure exactly what he’s seeing, because he won’t talk about it. He’ll brush off her questions, divert her with a new adventure or a question about “you humans” or an exclamation about bananas or something French. But though his face is split into the bright smile that he saves just for her, his eyes are sad and lonely and dark, and the expression fills her with sorrow and just a little fear.

Sometimes she squeezes his hand extra tight, just in case he can feel the emptiness reverberating out from the Doctor who left them behind. She’s sure he’s found new companions by now – the Doctor was never one to travel alone. But what happens when they leave him? Not everyone could promise him forever the way she had, and fewer still could mean it.

Even she has broken that promise, in so many ways.

So she holds him and laughs with him and tells him she loves him just a little more than she normally would, because instead of compensating for the loneliness of one incredibly long lifetime, she has to chase away two.

She can tell he knows exactly what she is doing. Sometimes it even seems like he’s laughing at her for her silly human emotions that she gets caught up in. But his hand clutches at hers just as tightly, and he is always the last one to let go.

* * *

He wakes gasping one night, drenched in cold sweat, and rolls himself out of bed to come to a rest on all fours. She pats his back as he pants and dry heaves, whispering to him, trying to soothe him.

“What’s happened?”

He sighs and weakly shakes his head. “What– what do you mean?”

“Is he– has something happened?”

He doesn’t even bother to pretend he can’t feel it anymore. He just lets her cradle his head to her chest, closes his eyes against the visions that he isn’t the one seeing. Tears escape through the cracks anyway, and Rose wipes them away.

“All those people,” he whispers finally, brokenly. “And for what? Nothing.”

“Hey,” she scolds gently, rubbing circles around his shoulder blades. “Don’t talk like that. All you’ve ever done is good. He’ll keep doing just that.”

“Not without you,” he says.

“He did it before me and he always will.” Everything else in her world has changed so many times. It’s the only thing she has to hold on to – his inherent goodness. She can see it so plainly in the face before her in the dark. Surely he can see it within himself, even if that self is universes away.

“Rose, he isn’t good anymore. Maybe we never were.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

“Not really.” He sighs, starts to pull himself back up off the floor. He’s shaking so badly she’s surprised he manages it. She’s never seen him quite so out of it before. Whatever it is, it must be bad.

It’s hours later before he finally speaks. She was convinced he was asleep – she only stayed awake so she could be ready if it happened again. Maybe he thinks she’s asleep – she gives no indication that she’s listening. But she wonders if maybe a part of him wants her to hear.

“I’ve always been afraid of having too much power. Rose, I’m not meant to decide who lives and who dies. I’m not a god. But he forgot that. And now people are dead anyway, and history could have been changed . . . He’s lost so much. He just doesn’t know what to do anymore. Because of the Time War. Because of me. I have you. He has nothing.”

She holds him as he cries. And in the morning he assures her it was nothing, that history will go on back on her Earth as it always does, and that no one will ever know of the desperate mistake of a lonely and war-worn Time Lord. But he shakes as he says it, and even the banana smoothie Jackie picked up for him at the coffee shop around the corner doesn’t make him smile. He drinks less than half.

She hopes secretly that the other Doctor – the one responsible for this – feels the repercussions of what he did twice as much as hers is now.

* * *

There is a morning, months after they’ve become used to the routine of Pete’s world, that the Doctor doesn’t wake up.

His heart is still beating (albeit slowly – it hasn’t settled on a regular rhythm since it realized it had to work on its own) and his breathing seems steady in her unprofessional opinion. But his eyes won’t open, and he won’t respond to her voice.

“Doctor? Please. _Please_ wake up. I just got you back. The TARDIS is almost ready. You have to open your eyes.”

No response. He doesn’t even move.

“We’re going to travel the universe. You and me, in the TARDIS. Remember? You promised! All of space and time!”

Nothing.

She is desperate. She hits him, lightly at first and then harder, until pink handprints are left on his cheeks. She screams for her mother. No one comes; they’re all at Torchwood. She doesn’t know what to do, so she pulls his head into her lap and sits there, crying silently into his hair, praying he won’t die now after all they’ve been through.

_He can’t die._

_There’s nothing wrong with him. He’s not even sick._

_Why won’t he wake up?_

“Rose? Ro-ose . . .”

She blinks. The clock above her head reads 8 pm, and her back is sore from sleeping on the floor. The Doctor’s face is above her, and he’s gently running his fingers through her hair.

The Doctor.

Suddenly, she’s very awake.

“You must have fallen asleep on the floor,” he’s rambling. “Your mum brought dinner home if you’re hungry, and Tony said–“ He cuts off as she launches herself to her feet.

“What the _hell_ was that?” she screams, feeling around for a weapon. He ducks as one shoe flies over his head, and the second catches him in the stomach. He raises it like he’s half-tempted to launch it back, but he drops it and pulls her into a hug instead.

“I’m sorry.”

“Oh, you’re bloody sorry. Well, me too. I’m sorry that–“

He cuts her off with a kiss, which she pulls away from, smacking at his chest. He raises his hands in surrender and steps away. She thinks he’s holding back a smile.

“Are you gonna tell me what the hell that was?”

Suddenly it isn’t funny anymore.

“I’m not sure you want to know,” he says darkly. She meets his eyes, and she doesn’t like the expression she sees there.

“You scared me to death. I thought you’d left me again.”

“Rose Tyler,” he says, grasping her shoulders, pulling her to face him. “I will never – _never –_ leave you again. I promise.”

“Cross your hearts?”

“Heart,” he says gently. “But yes.”

“So what happened? He’s dead, isn’t he.”

Of course she knew; Rose always knows. He cringes. “Regeneration isn’t fun, even at a distance.”

Silent tears trickle down her cheeks, and he pulls her to him once again. This time, she lets him. She gently touches the imprint of her hand still glowing on his cheek.

“We both knew this was gonna happen.”

“It always does, eventually.”

“But regeneration lasts days, though, doesn’t it?”

The Doctor sighs. “He – he let me go. We’re not connected anymore.”

Rose gasps; she can’t help it. “You can’t feel him?”

He shakes his head slowly, hesitant to meet her eyes. Even after all this time, he’s still not convinced she’s seeing him when she looks at that face, that hair, those eyes. He’s still not convinced he’s the same person she fell in love with.

She always manages to surprise him, though. “Thank God.”

“What? _What?_ ”

She giggles, a sound that seems oddly misplaced amid all the crying. “We’re free!”

“We’re– _what?”_

“I just – I couldn’t bear watching you feeling everything he was. It was killing you! You don’t need that now.” She pauses. “You alright? I mean, did . . . Did it hurt?”

He swallows a few times. “I thought you would hate me.”

“Yeah, that totally makes sense.” She pats his head, half condescending, all comforting. “Come on. Why would I hate you?”

“Because– because I’m not him.” He almost seems to shrink into himself as he says it. It’s the sort-of truth that they’ve danced around for months now. The fact is, whatever happened that night on the TARDIS in the other universe, things became complicated.

But at this point, it doesn’t even matter.

She sighs. “You are the Doctor, and the Doctor is you. And you know what? I love _you.”_

He sighs shakily, almost like he’s trying not to cry. Finally he whispers, “How– how long are you going to stay with me?”

Rose smiles and takes his hand. “Forever.” And his smile is real this time, and as he tugs her down the stairs to check on their growing TARDIS, she knows he will always be her Doctor.

Some things never change.


End file.
